


Excerpts From Fate's Diary

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 04:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: Sam and Edward are hiring for PQL.  They disagree on candidates, but then Sam always gets his way.  Good thing, too, since their new hire is more of a perfect fit than they know...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally printed in Alpha Chronicles #2. 1996. Based on the "Leap for Lisa" timeline.

Prologue:

Samuel Beckett leaned back in his chair, draining his bottle of Dr. Pepper. It was late and he wanted to go home. Instead he was sitting in the Project conference room with his friend and mentor, Edward St. John. He would've preferred having the meeting in his office, or somewhere else less formal, but St. John was more comfortable with doing things the 'proper' way. The huge table and slight echo in the cavernous room made the place seem lonely with just the two of them in it. One feeling Dr. Beckett diligently avoided.

St. John pushed another folder across the table towards him. "What about this one? Robert Cummings. UCLA grad and post-grad, doctorate in engineering and masters in physics, he's forty-two years old and married with two children--"

Sam interrupted him smoothly. He was growing tired of the debate, which had been going on for an hour now. "You're the one who's interested in their personal lives, not me. I only care about their qualifications."

"Cummings is perfectly qualified."

"So is Scotti. Got his bach. in engineering at New Mexico Tech, then transferred to Cal Tech and got his doctorate there. Minored in Environmental physics." He listed the facts they both already knew.

St. John sighed. "That's just it. Why didn't he minor in Environmental engineering, that would make more sense. He's--"

"You're prejudice against him because of his private life. That's against the law, Edward," Sam reminded him reproachfully.

"There are certain unpleasant realities of life, as you well know, Samuel. Our project is run by a privately-funded foundation. We rely completely on contributions of people who tend to be conservative. This Scotti's lifestyle is...how shall I say it...on the wild side. And I'm putting it mildly. He's a satyr who sleeps with anything in a skirt," he added as if that explained it all.

"How conservative can they be to give money to a crazy time-travel project?" Sam retorted. "It's not about the committee and we both know it. You're afraid because of me," it was fact and question. He let the mild hurt he felt show.

St. John sighed again. He did a lot of that when dealing with Sam Beckett. He'd have to take off the kid-gloves if he hoped to get through to his friend. Something he didn't relish doing. "You can't afford another scandal, Samuel, even a hint of one. Whether it has to do with you or not. We're very lucky to have gotten this far. You've got the project you always wanted, why do you want to possibly jeopardize that?"

"Maybe because this guy is exactly what I'm looking for. Maybe because someone once gave me a chance to prove people wrong, and now I'd like to give someone else that chance."

"Even if it means jeopardizing your life's work?"

He set his jaw stubbornly. "I want Scotti."

St. John sighed again.

**end of prologue**


	2. Chapter 2

I sat the cardboard box down on the desk, taking a look around at my new office. It was small but definitely a step up. On the last project I'd worked, I had a cubicle in an 11x11 room shared with three co-workers.

I wasn't sure exactly why I sent my resume to the Quantum Leap project. Even less sure why I'd accepted when Dr. Beckett called personally to set up an interview. And when I took the job... The truth was, working on a time travel experiment was too enticing to pass up. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and by some quirky twist of fate, it had been offered to me.

I opened the box and started taking out my personal items. The picture frame with the faded, torn snap of Trudy went on the desk first.

Maybe it was because I hadn't let go of the past myself that made it so fascinating. So much had happened, so many things I wished I could've done differently. Regrets that had left me, if not completely bitter, then with some deep unresolved conflicts. At least that's what they always say on those call-in shrink radio shows. But I'd passed my psychological screening here with flying colors.

An Agent friend of mine once told me that I'd survived so much because I always kept my sense of humor. Maybe he was right. He was also my first male lover (by choice), but that's another story...

I stood in that office for the first time and found myself chuckling at the many twists in the road of my life. If they'd known about my time in prison, I'd've never even been considered for the job of chief engineer. For that matter, I could have been dead instead of standing where I was...but I didn't think much about that anymore. Alan Scotti hadn't done any time, hadn't served in the Navy or been accused of a murder he didn't commit. Al Calavicci had lived that life. But he was dead now, executed for the crime.

What bizarre twist had conspired to place me in the right spot at the right time, to witness the guard killing that inmate? If not for that, for the huge conspiracy I'd helped uncover and the governor who was so desperate to bring it down that he was willing to grant a condemned man clemency, I'd be dead. Not turned state's evidence and placed in the witness protection program. I wouldn't be here.

Was there a 'grand plan' to life, and if so, had things happened that way for the express purpose of putting me right where I was?

I shivered and shrugged off the uncharacteristic mysticism. When I looked up again, Dr. Beckett was poking his head in the door.

"Settling in okay?" he asked with a polite smile.

I nodded. "Everything's fine, Dr. Beckett."

He grimaced slightly. "We're not that formal here, except maybe for Edward. Call me Sam."

"Okay, Sam. Thanks."

"There's an inner staff meeting in the conference room at ten tomorrow, and I'll be by to brief you at nine, okay? Do you prefer Alan, or--?"

"Call me Al."

When Sam's head disappeared again, I blinked, startled at myself. Since I'd started my new life, no one had called me Al. It was always Alan. I wondered at my impetuous gesture. His quick and breezy entrance and exit was kind of like being hit by a tornado or something. By the time you had a chance to catch your breath and think, he was gone.

Not that I was planning anything...unprofessional.

Okay, so the guy was a real hunk, sexy and intelligent and nice to boot. And okay, so I swung both ways and had had more than my share of conquests. I had no intentions of seducing my boss! I wanted this job, wasn't about to jeopardize it. I found Dr. Beckett and his work fascinating. I wanted to be a part of that, of what could turn out to be the greatest adventure mankind has ever known. To get to know Beckett as a respected colleague and friend. That's all.

Famous last words, you say?

Still, I couldn't help thinking about the man himself. I was convinced that anyone with a commitment to a project like this must have unresolved issues with the past, the man responsible for it more than any. Maybe that's why I felt a kinship with the young man almost before I'd met him.

I wondered what could have happened in Sam's past to make him so interested in reaching out to it again. He seemed like such a freshly-scrubbed, innocently pampered, genius scientist. But everyone has skeletons in their closets.

Alan Scotti knew that more keenly than most.

XXX

I settled in quickly, maybe more easily than I'd expected. Hard work and a challenge are two things guaranteed to make time fly. No pun intended. Before I knew it, I'd been there for two months and was already quite at home.

I looked up as a sharp curse cut the air, the third in as many minutes. I couldn't see the man's face who was bent over the computer terminal, but I could picture his expression. Genius scientists seem to make up for in brains what they lack in patience.

"Problems?" I inquired casually.

"Damn thing won't do what it's supposed to do," Sam retorted, giving the keyboard an angry stab.

"Just wait until you get the voice program working, then you can argue with it," I smirked. Who better to argue with a genius than a flawlessly logical computer?

"Argue with a computer?" St. John sounded either appalled or affronted, you never quite knew with him. "Preposterous."

"I hate computers!" Sam declared, finally getting fed up and hitting the power button. He stood up, apparently to put some distance between it and him. A wise move.

"Oh dear," Edward remarked mildly. He stood up from the table and approached Sam, taking his shoulders from behind, throwing a glance at me. "When he starts blaspheming like that, I know it's time to take him away for a cup of herbal tea."

"Great, maybe I can get some work done."

Sam scowled at both of us, but let himself be led off.

I noticed the easy camaraderie between the two of them, and felt a pang of unexpected jealousy. It had been a long time since I'd had a close friendship. _Not since Chip..._ When you live with the knowledge that you might be forced to pick up and assume a new identity at any time, you tend to avoid making permanent attachments. That's another reason I was so excited about this job opportunity. Things had changed. Most of the men I'd testified against were dead now, and I was starting to relax. It was a chance to build a real life. _A real life._ Something most people take for granted, that I would have given anything to have for myself.

Now, I prayed I'd have that chance.

XXX

It was a typical day at the project. Sam and I were sequestered in his office, hip high in work. Blueprints took up nearly his entire desk as we bent over them, deep in discussion. It was actually coming together now, in a tangible way we could look at in black and white. It was exciting.

"I just think that the Imaging Chamber and the Accelerator should be connected here," my finger marked the spot. "One is integral to the other, and the dynamics--"

A soft knock interrupted me, and we both looked up to see St. John standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Edward?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'll be leaving now. If you need anything, I can be reached at home."

Sam grinned, probably at the formality of the unnecessary information. That St. John was a trip. "Okay, have a good night," he told him.

"Goodnight Edward," I said, turning to Sam after he'd gone. "Hey, how come he gets to go home at a decent hour?!" Not that I was keeping track...or complaining.

"The perks of being in administration," Sam said with a wink.

"Lucky him." I turned back to the blueprints, eager to get back to work.

"Not that he doesn't do an important job," Sam began, apparently feeling he had to defend his friend after the joking remark. "If it weren't for Edward, I wouldn't have gotten the funding for this project. He's really good at that sort of thing. Me, I'm a disaster."

"What does that have to do with Edward and funding?" I quipped, and Sam made a face at me. "Hey, I never thought he wasn't important. But a person can't spread themselves too thin, take on too many responsibilities. Edward can give his 100% towards his job, he isn't doing fifty other things. If you'd been doing it alone, trying to be a scientist _and_ an administrator, it probably would've taken twice as long to get this far. He's an okay guy. A little on the boring side, but okay."

"Are you enjoying working here?" Sam asked seemingly casually, turning back to the blueprints.

"Of course Dr. Beckett," I said, just a little sarcastically, maybe it came out sounding condescending. "I'm honored to have been given the opportunity to do such interesting and innovative work, and to do that work with colleagues who are among the best in their fields."

"I didn't mean..." he began, sounding a bit flustered, maybe hurt. "I was just asking if you were happy with your work."

Maybe my people skills were rusty. Or maybe he was too sensitive, needed some loosening up. _Been hanging around St. John too long._ But I didn't say that aloud.

"I meant it," I told him as sincerely as I could. "Thanks for letting me share your dream with you."

You know the over-used cliche about the sun coming out when someone smiles? I'd never believed it...until that moment.

XXX

As much as I loved my work...well, all work and no play, as they say... I was looking forward to an enjoyable Friday night on the town. I was driving home from the project, trying to distinguish the road from the buckets of water that were pouring down from the heavens. And they say it never rains in the desert!

What started as a dark blob on the side of the road materialized into a jeep and a person standing beside it as I got closer. A familiar person, tire in one hand and crowbar in the other.

As I pulled over to the side, Sam threw down the bar and let the tire roll away.

I hit the button in the door and the passenger window slid down. "Need a lift?"

He stood there looking at me sarcastically. Looking kinda cute sopping wet... _what am I thinking?!_

"What ever gives you that idea?" Sam said dryly (no pun intended).

"Get in," I said with a magnanimous wave. Sam climbed in, and I pulled onto the road again.

"I'm dripping on your seats, sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

We were silent for awhile as I drove; it was the first time we'd been in a social situation as opposed to a work environment, and I guess it made us feel out of place or something.

"You know," he began, sliding a sideways look at me. "Edward told me never to get into cars with strange men."

I almost crashed the car, stunned as I was by the comment. Looking at him I could see the blush even in the dash lights. I recovered enough to take the joke in the spirit it was meant. "Isn't that supposed to be, 'mother' told me never to...?" I retorted.

Sam shrugged. "Edward...he looks out for me," he explained, but offered no more. I really wanted to stop the wild speculating...

"And he thinks I'm strange?"

"Not really." Sam seemed uncomfortable with conversation now, and I wondered why an innocent kidding remark should change the atmosphere so.

That already seemed to be a pattern in our association. Sometimes we got along great, joked and all, other times we'd hit a snag and some sort of tension would descend with no warning. And I couldn't figure out what the problem was.

We stayed silent until we got to his apartment, then things seemed to break. He paused with his hand on the door handle. "You wanna come in and have a cup of coffee or something? It's the least I can do after getting your upholstery all wet."

It seemed the kid couldn't open his mouth without having it come out as a double entendre. But things were comfortable between us again, so I accepted.

Unlike my own modern unit at the new Mar Vista, his apartment was one of those old houses that had been converted into two separate rentals. He lived on the first floor. Inside was pretty much what I would have imagined it'd be. Books overflowing the several bookcases, papers littering the desk with it's requisite computer. The rest of it was fairly standard fare: T.V, stereo system with CD player, furniture that looked old but comfortable. It didn't resemble my swinging bachelor's pad in the least, but I would have been surprised if it had.

"Uh, the kitchen's in there," Sam pointed, "if you wanna get started on the coffee--it's in the cabinet above. I'm just gonna get out of these wet clothes."

"Works for me."

While Sam was changing, I measured out the coffee and got it started brewing. An orange tabby cat came up to me and started rubbing against my legs. I politely bent down to scratch it behind the ears.

"That's Prancer," Sam said, coming into the room. I must have raised an eyebrow -- what kind of person names their cat Prancer? -- because he looked sheepish and quickly explained. "Named after Santa's reindeer...? I had two cats on the farm when I was growing up, and they were named Donner and Blitzen. So..."

"I get it," I told him. "Probably would've chosen vixen myself."

"So I've heard," he commented, and began taking out cups and spoons. I let the remark pass, that was the last subject I wanted to get into.

We fixed our coffees and carried them into the living room. Sam sank down on the couch while I sat in the recliner. Suddenly I felt the pressure to create conversation.

"So, what do you usually do on Friday nights, I mean when you're not standing in the rain changing flat tires?" I winced inwardly. It came out sounding like a line I'd use on a...well, I was just trying to make small talk.

Sam's eyes shifted away, towards the desk in the corner. "Well, I uh...I got this thesis paper from Berkeley I wanted to read..."

"Thesis paper?" I said incredulously.

"I don't get out much," he mumbled.

Reading a thesis with his cat for company on a Friday night. I felt sorry for the obviously isolated guy. Just because he was a genius didn't mean he couldn't enjoy life like the rest of us.

"Yeah, and it's not good for you, kid. Why don't you come along with me, have some fun?" Okay, so I'd been planning on hitting a club, picking up a girl or guy -- still hadn't decided on my mood -- but I couldn't just desert him to lonely exile. He needed rescuing.

"Well, I uh..." He looked almost trapped. Naw, I had to be reading him all wrong.

"Hey, listen, it's okay if you wanna stay home and read. It was just a suggestion."

"I'd like to go," he said softly, it kind of trailed off.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "We'll take it nice and slow until you learn how. We'll just grab a couple of beers at the local bar, maybe play some pool.

"I don't know how to play pool," he said, but looked interested in something besides work for the first time since I'd known him.

"You know geometry?" He nodded. "I'll teach you the rest. And I learned from the best in the business." I winked.

XXX

I was having trouble with my Monday morning, and coffee wasn't helping. I sat in the cafeteria and sipped at the mug, trying to focus long enough to read the sports section in front of me. To my right, St. John was fidgeting impatiently, looking downright perky with his cup of tea in front of him. Probably wasn't even caffeinated.

I peered speculatively at the cup. "Can I try some of that?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Certainly, help yourself."

I was in the midst of making my tea and asking myself why when Sam finally breezed into the room.

"Morning, guys. Tea? You??" he squeaked as he grabbed his Einstein mug and reached for the coffee pot.

"You should try everything, at least once in life. That's my motto."

Behind us St. John cleared his throat. "I was beginning to get concerned, Samuel. This is the first time you've ever been late for work." Again I noticed the way he seemed to almost hover over Sam, and couldn't help wonder if he was just overprotective or if something _was_ going on between them...as difficult as that was to imagine.

"Sorry, Edward. We got in late last night, and I overslept."

"We?"

Sam hesitated only a fraction of a second, but enough so I noticed it. "Al's teaching me to play pool." A look passed between them, one I couldn't interpret.

My concentration on the tableau in front of me was broken when one of my assistant engineers came over to our table. "Hey Scotti -- we need you in the engine room, pronto!"

It hadn't taken long for _those_ jokes to start. Just for the record, no I didn't choose that name purposely. "It's too early in the morning, Joe."

Joe glanced at Sam.

"Don't look at me, I'm a doctor, not an engineer," Sam told him, looking innocent about it.

I groaned long and hard, and got up from the table. "Seriously, or are you just busting my chops on this fine Monday?"

"Need you to check out that new system. When we tried to run a diagnostic, it went blewee."

"Is that a technical term?" I said, and followed him out reluctantly.

I would've loved to hear the conversation once I was gone.

XXX

Sam and I became pretty close after that. Whatever awkwardness we'd been having seemed to disappear, a natural bonding taking place. I was thrilled...like I said, my first friendship. I had a feeling this one was for keeps.

I couldn't help noticing St. John's discreet but pervasive presence, disapproval, the way he always had one eye on Sam. I could understand worrying about a friend -- or even jealousy, although I doubted that, since they didn't seem like the type of friends who hung out together and raised hell. Maybe it was just that, being ultra-reserved, Edward didn't approve of my more uninhibited personality. Afraid I'd be a "bad influence" on Sam or something. He was never anything but polite to me though, which was probably just his good breeding.

There was one other possibility. During their extensive background check, they'd discovered my, shall we say, 'outside' interests. I hadn't volunteered the information and they hadn't brought it up either. Which is the way is should be. My personal life had nothing to do with my ability to do the job. If Edward was afraid I was going to 'seduce' Sam, then I figured he'd just have to worry until he decided I was trustworthy. It wasn't my problem.

What _was_ my problem, at the moment, was trying to fix my leaky faucet and stop it from driving me batty with it's drip, drip, drip. Unfortunately, plumbing was never one of my areas of expertise.

The phone jangled unexpectedly, and of course I banged my head on the sink as I stood up. I glanced at the clock on my way to answer it, wondering who could be calling at such a late hour. There weren't very many possibilities.

"Hello?"

"Al, it me. I didn't wake you, did I?" Sam, and he sounded vexed.

"Nope. What's up, kid?"

"You hear that?" He held the phone away from his ear. In the background, I could just make out the distant sound of barking. "My neighbor's dog has been keeping me awake for hours barking. I'm going out and kill him."

"Which neighbor is this?"

"Next door."

"Okay, don't commit muttocide just yet, I'll be right over." It was better than battling the faucet, I figured.

XXX

Sam came to the door in his bathrobe, looking bleary-eyed and confused as he followed me over to the fence separating the two properties.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked apprehensively, as the dog began barking more frantically at our presence.

"Mmm, Doberman, too, huh?"

"He's not mean though. Just noisy."

"Not for long." I unwrapped the package I'd brought with me, and heaved the raw hunk of meat over the fence. "There. That oughta keep him busy for awhile, hopefully long enough for you to get to sleep." We watched as the dog sniffed at the meat, and, realizing what it was, began digging in with gusto.

He gazed at me as if impressed. "You're amazing."

"Well, I can't say I've never heard that before, but thanks."

"Wanna come in for a beer while you're here?" Sam asked as he walked back towards his door.

"Well, I got this project going at home..." I enjoyed watching his face fall at my words.

"Oh, okay."

"--That I'm trying to run away from," I finished and followed him in the house.

He hit me in the arm and headed for the kitchen. "What kind of a project?"

"Leaky faucet. You're not the only one who was being kept awake."

"Just by a little old drip?" Sam said, coming back into the room with two cans and a bag of Doritos. "Try listening to Kong all night. And just when you think he's gonna stay silent..." He flopped down on the couch and crossed his legs in front of him, setting the cans on the table and opening the bag of chips. He munched thoughtfully for a few moments. "Al, have you ever heard of Pavlov? I could go broke here, providing raw meat just so I can get some sleep.”

"Hey, you want a solution, you got one. I never said it was permanent." As I took off my jacket and threw it over a chair, I noticed Sam watching me.

"Ah, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, and since we're such good friends now..."

"Sounds ominous." I joined him on the couch and picked up one of the cans.

"Are you color blind?"

At first I didn't know what he was talking about, the comment seeming out of left field. Then I wondered if he were kidding or serious. Then I tried to decide if I was insulted or not.

"Is this some reference to my style of clothing?" I waved at my blood red shirt and purple-flecked tie.

Sam burst out in laughter, almost spewing corn chips in the process.

I pretended to be affronted. "What does a genius farm boy know about fashion anyway?! I'll have you know this is cutting edge stuff."

"Where, in Greenwich Village?" he sputtered.

Ah, now that wasn't far from the truth...

What could I say? Truth is, when you've spent years wearing boring Navy uniforms every day -- then more years wearing drab prison gray -- the last thing you're interested in is a conservative wardrobe. But I couldn't tell him any of that. As far as he knew, I hadn't done either of those things.

Sam continued with his gleeful ribbing. "No, I don't think even a color-blind could come up with those combinations of yours by accident."

"I guess it's just...my bid for individuality. A chance to stand out from the crowd."

"You don't need loud clothes for that," Sam said quietly. "You do that all by yourself."

By the tone of his voice I got the feeling he was being sincere now, but I was compelled to check. "What is this, pick on Al night?"

Sam looked down. "I didn't mean it that way," he explained. "I know, most times when I try to say something it comes out all wrong. I'm better with computers than with people," he admitted sadly.

"You had to learn to program computers."

"Huh?"

"You went to school to learn _how_. People skills also need to be learned -- and secluding yourself away with just your hardware for company isn't gonna do it."

"Maybe," he murmured, not seeming entirely convinced. "Anyway, I just meant that you...you're a very...special person." He blushed a bit.

"Thanks," I told him. "So are you. Listen, you're very sensitive--" I held up a hand to forestall his reply, "--see, you aren't the only one who's ever been misunderstood. That's a big plus on your side, your sensitivity. You can understand people, listen to them fairly and without judging, care about them. You've got the qualifications for being an excellent _people_ person." I had a few twinges about having such a personal conversation, but he needed those types of reassurances once in awhile.

"You really think so?" he asked shyly.

"I _know_ so. I know _I'm_ a richer person for knowing you."

Our eyes met and held, and now I knew the atmosphere between us was too intense.

"I feel the same way," he whispered.

Time for a return to sanity. "So why are you hogging all the Doritos then?" I asked jauntily.

It was with a sense of relief that I saw he was going to let things lighten up. He passed over the bag with an embarrassed shrug.

After that the conversation turned to more general things, work, sports. We argued a bit about our respective favorite teams, made a small wager on next weekend's game. It didn't occur to either of us that I'd just spent eleven dollars for prime rib to give him a chance to get to sleep and here we were spending the time jawing.

The conversation finally wound down, and Sam glanced at the clock. "Whoops," he winced. "Why don't you spend the night here, since it's quiet now? In the morning, I'll go back with you and help fix that leaky sink."

"And be late for work?" _What would Edward say?_

He grinned. "I can be late if I want, I'm the boss."

"Whatever you say, boss," I responded, picturing St. John's reaction.

Sam gave me some spare blankets and pillows and set me up on the couch. Just after he'd said goodnight, turned out the lights and gotten into bed...on cue, the dog started barking again.

We laughed ourselves to sleep.

**End of part one**


	3. Chapter 3

Things happen, sometimes unexpected things that you could never have prepared for. Never even imagined. And as if by magic, life changes forever...

It was ten at night and the project was nearly deserted. The hallway was mostly in darkness, as Sam walked down towards the pool of light coming from St. John's open doorway. It was like walking the last mile.

St. John was working on a report for the committee, just as he always did every Wednesday. The sense of normalcy about the scene was very welcome. Sam stood at the door for a few seconds, willing himself to be calm and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Waiting.

Shortly Edward noticed him and looked up. "Samuel? I thought you'd gone home hours ago."

"I did. Well, I didn't, not exactly."

"What on earth are you--?" He pushed his reading glasses further up on his nose and peered closely at Sam. "Is there something wrong, Samuel?"

Even calling him Samuel, something he'd never liked and only tolerated, was reassuringly familiar. He liked his life, his work. He didn't want it all to end.

"Yes," Sam whispered. "I'm sorry..."

St. John pushed away the report and gave Sam his total attention. "Sit down and tell me about it."

"I'm in trouble," he bit back the _again_ before it could escape, and took a deep breath. He sunk into the chair beside Edward's desk, feeling like he was in the principle's office.

"What happened. Samuel... tell me." The closest Edward ever got to losing his reserved facade.

Reluctantly but knowing he had no choice, Sam began the tale. "You remember last month, when I gave that lecture at New Mexico Tech?"

Edward nodded. "Yes, and set up the apprentice program."

Sam nodded. "One of the kids, Mark James, seemed very interested. He even asked me if I could give him some advice about his thesis. I liked him, he reminded me of myself at that age. I wanted to help him. So I said I would. Today he called me and asked if I'd come over tonight and give him a hand."

The rest came out in a rush; he didn't want Edward jumping to any conclusions without hearing the whole story. "But it turns out that isn't the kind of "hand" he had in mind. He wanted me to, us to...he wanted me." He looked away, then back. "I couldn't believe it. I turned him down. Then he said if I didn't...that he'd tell everyone I had anyway. I didn't know what to do. I walked out."

Two, infuriatingly calm words, "How old?"

Sam gulped. "Seventeen."

"I see."

Sam was tired of the reserve, wished he'd yell, or something. "I didn't touch him."

"I know you didn't. But that might not matter. It'll be his word against yours."

"I know."

"And after what happened when _you_ were the same age..."

"What are we going to do?" Sam asked plaintively.

St. John steepled his fingers together, deep in thought. "I'm afraid I don't know what we can do. Besides deny it."

"There's _nothing?_ " Sam said desperately.

"I'll contact our lawyer immediately of course. See what he advises. He'll most likely advise waiting to see if the lad does carry through on his threat. It might have been all talk."

"And if it isn't?"

"Samuel, I'm not a lawyer. I'd say the next step would be court. We could sue him for slander. But I have to be honest with you, I can't sugar-coat this. With that past situation of yours... I'm not sure you'd win or even that the committee would stand behind us."

He could lose the funding. Lose the project. He'd known that of course, but it was worse having it said out loud.

"What am I gonna do?" he whispered.

St. John smiled slightly and laid one hand on his arm. "My father once told me, the only things a man really has are his honest and integrity. You, Samuel, have both in abundance. You can get through this, no matter what happens. You'll do what's right and see it through. Just like always. And I'll be there beside you."

"Thanks, Edward," Sam rasped, voice coming out rusty.

If he lost the project, ruined his career too... Edward had a prestigious position in the scientific and high-finance communities. His life would go on, whether he could convince anyone to ever hire Sam again or not. But Sam would be alone. His life...would be over. And he had to make sure he didn't take Edward down with him.

"I'm sorry Edward," he repeated, rising.

"I know it's not your fault."

The words didn't make him feel better. He still felt as if he'd let the man down. After Edward had gone to bat for him and helped him live down the rumors and reputation... It was all happening again, this time much worse.

Edward stopped him at the door. "Samuel -- whatever you do, don't go near this boy again. If you're entertaining any thoughts of trying to talk him out of it, please don't. I'll have Phillip stop by tomorrow and we'll see how he says to proceed. Promise me you'll go with his recommendation."

"Okay, Edward," Sam said with resignation. He was in no position to deny this man who was only trying to help him.

"Are you going to be all right?" Edward asked as he made his way to the door.

Sam nodded, and walked out.

XXX

I knew something was wrong the minute I opened the door and saw Sam standing there, paper-wrapped bottle in his hand. He rarely drank hard liquor, and never straight from the bottle.

"Al, I need to talk to you."

"Okay." I ushered him inside, took the paper bag from him and looked inside. Vodka. Open, but nearly full. Good, I didn't have a babbling drunk on my hands.

"I really need to -- I have to tell you this because I feel you have a right to know since it's your job at stake too..."

I got a really sinking feeling when I heard that. I led him to the couch and pushed him down. "Okay, calm down and tell me what's wrong?" I patted his arm as soothingly as I could.

"I'm in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"You remember that kid I was going to help with his thesis, Mark James?" I nodded. "I went over to his house tonight because he asked me to. But I found out he didn't want my help...just my body."

The sinking feeling grew, since either he was way-overreacting, or there was something bad I didn't know about yet. "And..."

"When I turned him down he got mad and said he'd tell everyone I raped him."

"Okay," I summarized, "you're being blackmailed. It's not great news, but surely there's no evidence to prove his allegations. It's his word against yours."

"That's just the point!" Sam exclaimed, jumping to his feet to pace. "There was something that happened, a long time ago. I was seventeen myself and in college. One of the professors...took an interest in me. I was young and I...I really liked him..." he whispered, acting as if he was ashamed to be telling me this. "I slept with him. I was under-age and he was married and...and it came out. There was a huge scandal, they kicked him out of the university. They said he was a child molester and I wasn't really that smart, that I'd slept for my grades. I tried to tell them he never forced me, but they didn't care."

"You were a minor," I said quietly.

Sam nodded. "After that, I had a real hard time getting anyone to hire me. They didn't seem to believe I was a genius, and just ignored most of the papers I wrote. Wouldn't even read them." The pain still came through in his voice. "Except the one about time travel, which they used to prove I was just a crazy fag."

"Excuses. They were jealous of you, of your mind," I told him. The scientific world could be a dog-eat-dog place, and Sam was just a sweet puppy who loved everybody. It wasn't the first time that I'd wanted to scream at the injustice in the world, but it was surprisingly the fiercest.

Sam continued. "It was Edward who first believed in me, helped me get past those accusations that followed me."

The puzzle fell into place, I understood a lot now, about both of them.

"If Mark does go public with this, it will re-open the past. And the committee...there's a good chance they'll bail out of the project. They were willing to overlook things, on Edward's recommendation, as long as I 'kept my nose clean'. I'm gonna lose the project..." he said, and there was more than a hint of tears in his voice.

"Ah, kid, don't," I said, putting my arm around his shoulders. "We'll find a way to fix this. Maybe the kid was just letting off steam, or he'll back down when confronted."

"Maybe," Sam said, and nothing more.

I knew what he meant. Maybe wasn't enough to risk your whole life on. He was in serious trouble. It wasn't fair, and I couldn't let it happen to someone as good and decent. Not to Sam.

"Did anyone see you with Mark? Observe you at his place or anything?"

"Uh...I don't think so. At least I didn't see anyone. It was pretty quiet."

"Okay. Here's your story. We stick as close to the truth as we can, that's always the best bet. You stopped by because he asked you to, but when he approached you you turned him down and left. You were only there for ten minutes at the most."

"But I can't prove--"

"I know because you were with me all night."

Sam stared at me wide-eyed. "You can't--perjure yourself for me..." he stammered.

"Why not?" I shot back, old resentments resurfacing. "Just because you're innocent doesn't mean the law's gonna protect you. And that ain't right. It's not _right_ , Sam. Now you can tell the truth if you want, but I'm gonna tell them you were with me. Period."

"They'll just think you're lying to protect me because you're my friend..." he tried to reason with me.

"No, they'll think _you're_ lying to protect me, because we're secretly lovers."

Now he gaped at me, open-mouthed. "You'd tell them that?"

"You're not gonna suffer because of this jerk, Sam." I hadn't been able to help myself, but I wasn't going to let _Sam_ get accused of a crime he didn't commit.

"How do you know they'd believe you're--" he let it trail off, and I suddenly understood something else.

"They'll believe. I'm bisexual, Sam." At his look of shock, I knew I was right. "Seems to be one of the things St. John left out of my background check."

"He did it to protect me," he said.

"I know," I replied kindly. "He's a good guy." This was the second time I'd had to suppress the urge to call Sam 'babe'. And knowing his orientation...my resolve was deserting me fast. I wanted to protect him, and I admit, 'kissing it all better' was definitely top of my list.

"He says I should see it through with honor, tell the truth."

"Then we'll make it real..." I reached out and drew Sam to me, molding my lips to his. And knew I'd wanted to do that from the start. Through the electric thrill of contact, I kept myself open to his response. After barely a second for the shock to wear off, I felt his lips moving willingly against mine. He moaned, and I knew this was right.

As the intensity of our kiss grew, I managed to pull away. "Do you want this as much as I do?" _Please say yes..._

"Yes. Oh god, yes..." he moaned, and launched himself at me with almost a desperation. "Oh god, I've wanted you...please..." He pressed closer, as close as he could get.

I raised us up without breaking contact...Sam was making sure that didn't happen. "Let's go into the bedroom," I said huskily, while visions of what would happen there swam before my eyes.

We had each other nearly stripped by the time we got there. He was hard against me, frantic, and I knew the months of forced repression were going to see that this time didn't last long.

We tumbled onto the bed in a glorious tangle of limbs. Sam immediately began thrusting his erection against me, cries torn from his lips. But I didn't want it to be quite _that_ quick or generic. I reached down and took him in my hand, getting to know the contours of him, the warmth of him. He squirmed in my arms and slid against me, tearing a cry from my throat. This prompted him to do it again, grabbing himself and capturing both of our cocks together for more friction.

I found various places I could reach to lick and bite, while my hand joined his. We started rocking, and I reveled in the earthy sounds of our coupling, of the bed springs keeping time. Dying for the taste of his mouth again I smothered his latest gasp in a kiss, plunging my tongue inside. Our tongues spent some time getting intimately acquainted, until he could take it no longer and broke away to gasp for breath. I wanted to taste the rest of him, have his cock in my mouth, I wanted us to do everything pleasurable two people could do to each other, make love forever. But it wasn't meant to be, not this time.

I felt him twisting in my arms, straining for more contact though that was physically impossible.

"Aaal...." his head close to mine he howled my name, nearly bursting an eardrum. But a moment later I didn't care if I could hear or not, as the pleasure coursing through me erupted out to mingle with his spurting, over our joined hands and close press of bodies.

When it was through, Sam fell back onto the bed, catching his breath. Soon his hand, slightly trembling, reached out to caress my sweat-sheened chest. We were in love. There was no denying the feelings, the intensity between us. The room was practically reverberating with the power of it.

I grabbed the hand and placed a kiss in his palm, using the leverage to pull him back into my arms. "You're incredible," I whispered into his ear. When it started to feel hot I licked it, then blew on it to cool it. He shivered. "And I'm far from through with you yet," I added wickedly.

"Does that mean...you will be...?" he let it trail off.

I loved his sweet insecurity. I knew why Edward wanted to protect him. Who, knowing this sweet, gentle creature, wouldn't? "I'll give you forever," I said. "That's as far as I go."

His eyebrows wrinkled. "Isn't that...a song or something?" He sounded spacey, like he hadn't recovered from the afterglow yet.

"Alabama," I nodded. “The group, not the state.” It seemed like, on reflection, I'd only been waiting for the right time. When it arrived I plunged in and never looked back. "Speaking of truths, I think we both need to do some talking..."

Sam nodded against my skin. "I need to tell you something." He looked up at me, his face very serious. "I thought I was happy with my computers and my science, was where I wanted to be. Then when I met you I realized I'd lost touch with the human needs. I wanted to touch and be touched again..."

I stroked his hair. "What happened with the professor made you afraid, didn't it?"

"I thought...maybe they were right, he did do something wrong after all. Taken advantage of me. Things didn't turn out right at all, and I was afraid of trying again."

"But you did anyway, with me."

Sam gazed down into my face earnestly. "Do you believe in predestination?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it, I chortled until I had to stop and catch my breath.

He was frowning at me. "Does that mean no?"

"You and me? Baby, you don't know the half of it." I stole a kiss, then couldn't resist another. Then a sobering thought occurred to me, and I sat up against the headboard. Sam looked at me inquiringly.

"While we're on the subject of truth, there's something you gotta know." I wasn't too worried about it changing the way he thought of me. He'd bared his own skeletons, and had been afraid I'd turn away. I hadn't, and I knew he wouldn't either.

"You can tell me anything, Al," he assured.

"I know," I told him, and stole another kiss. Naw, it wasn't stealing -- he was giving the things away.

"This might be important...in view of your situation." I now had his full attention. "If it does come down to me giving a statement on your behalf, some things might come to light. I doubt it, but I feel you should be warned. If there's any publicity... I'm a member of the witness protection program, Sam. My name isn't really Alan Scotti, and that background stuff Edward found -- the stuff before 1961 -- is all fake."

"You witnessed a murder or something?"

"Exactly that. I was in prison at the time." He gasped slightly. "For a murder I didn't commit," I continued frankly. "If I hadn't seen the guard slit that inmates throat, I would have been executed in the gas chamber."

"Don't sugar-coat it Al," he said weakly. "I...I guess that's not your real name though."

"Yes it is. Albert. Calavicci. But you must never say that name to anyone. Most of the men I brought down have since died, but there's never any guarantee..."

"Whatever happens, we'll handle it together," he told me, his arms tightening around me almost fiercely. "It'll all work out." Assuring me, as I had him earlier. Yeah, we were a team already.

"And you still trust me?"

"If I don't trust _you_ , then there's no hope left for me..." He pulled me close.

"Is it all right if we finished this conversation at a later date? I'll tell you the whole story then."

"Why...is there somewhere you have to go?" he asked in confusion at my abrupt shift.

"Ah, yes," I grinned at him, already beginning to slide down his body. "And you're definitely _coming_ along with me." His breath caught as I reached my destination and blew a gust of air over his already reawakening penis. "I've been waiting months to do this," I confessed in a voice low with passion.

He barked a cry of surprise when I engulfed his cock without preamble, his fingers grabbing the sheet for purchase. Feeling heady with sexual power, I had a sudden irresistible urge to drive him crazy with lust. To torture him with pleasure until he was begging for release.

I sucked him avidly, attuning myself to every minute signal from his body. When he bucked up, on the edge, I eased off. As his feelings became more and more vocal, I let him slide out of my mouth completely and instead cupped his balls, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him deeply as I nuzzled them lovingly.

"I'm gonna do everything to you that one person can do to another," I promised in a guttural purr, licking at the crease where his leg met thigh. He whimpered. "Lick every inch of you, suck you and fuck you..." he bucked up at that last one. "You like it when I say that?" I asked, noting his panting growing louder. "You want me to fuck you?" His eyes glazed over even more, and I knew I was onto something here.

I put two fingers up to his lips, and although perplexed, he accommodated me by opening his mouth. I let him bathe my fingers for a minute, then took them back. Reaching behind him, I gently urged him to turn over. When he did, I sat back on my haunches and began to slid my fingers inside of him.

After the first moment of tensing, he relaxed and let me in. I fucked him with my fingers, while my other hand grasped my own erection. The momentum pushed him into the bed and he got the message, began thrusting his hardness into the mattress in time to my working finger. Soon he was moaning almost steadily, as I reached that special spot and drove him to an almost instant orgasm. Eager to join him, I increased the pace of my hand on myself, and the pleasure peaked. I watched as white semen landed on the beautifully rounded pink mounds of his ass.

As soon as he recovered he turned over and grabbed me closer. "Next time...the real thing?" he asked a little breathlessly.

"I'll do you, and you'll do me and I'll do you...ad infinitum," I promised.

"I like the sound of that..." he murmured, and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Definitely in need of some down time, I joined him in a nap. But you can pretty much guess how we spent the majority of the night.

XXX

The next morning we solemnly entered the project together, heading first for St. John's office. Sam knocked on the door. It was always best to observe proper formalities with St. John...especially when you had news for him he wasn't apt to like.

"Come," he called, and we entered. He looked from one to the other of us questioningly.

"We have to talk to you Edward," Sam began.

"Oh, I don't think I like the sound of that. Not at all."

I almost grinned at his mild but emphatic tone. Despite the differences in our personalities and clashes over lifestyles, I'd always liked him. And now that I knew the whole story, I respected him even more.

"It's about our talk last night,” Sam said.

"Yes...? Phillip will be here at one, by the way," he said warily.

"Before he gets here, I wanted you to know that I...wasn't entirely honest with you last night."

We both stared at Sam, as that wasn't part of our rehearsed game plan...

"I did stop by Mark's place, but I left within ten minutes." I tried to keep the astonishment off my face as I realized what Sam was about to do. "If I need it, I have an alibi as they say. I was with Al."

"What exactly are you trying to tell me Samuel?"

"Al and I...we..." the color rose to his cheeks, telling the whole story more vividly than words. I took his hand in mine to offer moral support, and he squeezed it gratefully. "We're in love."

St. John blinked. Twice. That was as big an emotional reaction as I'd ever seen from him. "I see."

"I...we didn't want you finding out later. You know." Sam stood there shifting from foot to foot. I knew how hard it had been for him to lie to his friend. He'd done it to spare Edward the awkward position of being forced to choose between loyalty to a friend and his moral beliefs.

My sense of morality was different from Edward's. I'd sacrifice anything, if I cared enough about that person to want to do it. Lying didn't bother me in the least -- I'd lie to God himself if I had to to help Sam Beckett. But that doesn't mean I think everyone should be willing to, or that Edward was any less of a friend for not sharing my outlook. He was a decent man and a good friend, who stood by what he believed in. That was something we had in common.

St. John fixed me with a look that said, hurt him and you're a dead man.

"I love Sam, and I'm going to stand by him, no matter what. If it means declaring we're in love to the rest of the world..." I shrugged." It's better than being pegged as a child molester."

"Do you think the committee could deal with that?" Sam asked.

St. John turned his intent gaze on Sam. "This is serious, isn't it?"

Sam nodded, swallowing. "The most serious thing in my life. I _love_ him, Edward," he explained imploringly. "He makes me feel alive again."

"Then they will have to deal with it. I'll see to that," he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

A huge smile broke out on Sam's face. "Thanks, Edward," he whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you..."

"Pshaw," he waved it off. "Now, don't you have some work to do?"

"Yes," we said in unison.

"You were late again this morning," he called in an overly casual voice as we were heading for the door.

I could feel Sam's blush without looking at him. "We, I uh...overslept," he mumbled, mortified at being teased by the usually staid Englishman.

"I'm sure," he said with just enough innuendo emphasis to send us running for the corridor. I could've sworn I heard laughter behind the closed door, but I've never been sure I wasn't just imagining it.

Out in the hall, we both grinned at each other, finally feeling the freedom of having everything settled. And right there, right in the middle of the project's main corridor, we grabbed each other and hung on tight. Come what may, we were ready for it.

Everything would be all right now.

_I will give you my heart_   
_Faithful and true_   
_And all the love it can hold_   
_That's all I can do_   
_'cause I've thought about_   
_How long I'll love you_   
_And it's only fair that you know_   
_Forever's as far as I'll go_

\--Alabama. Written by Mike Reid

**the end.**

5/11/96


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